


Where we begin

by regsregis



Series: Sugar and Gold [3]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 11:34:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10990089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regsregis/pseuds/regsregis
Summary: written as a fill for a prompt on tumblr, a little bit of tim's backstory, only soft feelings, no wrong, shhh





	Where we begin

Being the firstborn comes with its perk, you get priority over your siblings to the feeder, being one of said benefits. Or you can be betrothed to a princess, another one. Or inherit your father’s fortune and that one would be just grand, wouldn’t it?

Or, it can make you the most unlucky fucker in the whole village.

For Tim it’s always the latter, yeah, he is betrothed but not to a pretty gal or lad but to the most feared entity in the realm, promised as a payback to the Handsome Sorcerer for saving his Father’s life one stormy night, even before he was born. Not by any ill will, just a promise to give up whatever the man will find, but not expect, upon safely returning home. Turns out what his Father has found but not expected, was his pregnant wife.

And so when he turns of age, an intangible force drags him away from the safety of his farm and to the castle, cold and scared and not at all ready to repay the debts of his progenitor.

-II-

Some nights he still wakes up drenched in icy sweat, huddled in the safety of the room assigned to him and tracing his fingers over the tattoos burned into the skin of his wrist. He’s trying to erase the memories of the Sorcerer’s fingers burning the markings into his flesh and soul, to overlap them with a more comforting brush of his own touch but it does very little to ease the lingering fear.

Some days he’s sent to run errands for the man, but it always turns out to be one disaster after another, the castle hostile and borderline murderous towards him, and on more than one occasion the Sorcerer needs to swoop in to save the day, extracting his servant from the over-eager teeth of his dragons or drag him from underneath a hay cart where he would hide as some of the shambling corpses of the undead army tried to make a practice dummy out of him.

Which leads to a lot of disapproving grumbling and the Sorcerer growing more and more impatient until he finally gives up and sends him back to the village, a stern order to bring back one thing he’s missing the most.

A sacrifice, that’s what the man wants from him, and as he clutches two bundles of fur to his chest, the only two friendly creatures in his life to ever care in return for him, his steps falter. If not for the bond binding him to do the Sorcerer’s will he wouldn’t be doing this, he wouldn’t be endangering them but there he is, shakily presenting the two cats to the man and letting tears stream down his face with no shame nor hesitation.

He’ll take them away, same way he has been slowly taking away pieces that made Tim Timothy, one experiment after another altering his body, chin growing sharper, chest broader and hair losing its reddish hues. The night that follows is by far the worst he has had in the castle, a storm raging on the other side of the window only adding to the gloomy atmosphere of depression after having unwillingly betrayed two innocent souls, forfeiting last shreds that tied him back to home and humanity.

Next day finds him drowsily loitering about the castle until a whispered command has him falling into steps towards the study room. He thinks he’ll never get used to the presence skirting around the edges of his consciousness, uncomfortable and always just on the wrong side of intimate.

Half expecting to find torn remains of his friends, the sight takes him aback, hands coming up to rub at his eyes, vision suddenly tripled. There’s the Sorcerer alright, that’s not unusual, even though his pleased smirk sends shivers down Tim’s spine, but there also is another Sorcerer, sat on the floor and happily trying to curl his body forward to get his face closer to his ass, one leg outstretched in the air, and then there is yet -another- Sorcerer, huddled high on one of the cabinets, swatting at a bundle of feathers and strings.

“So, little tim tam, how are you liking your new guardians?”

The moment they notice his presence, the two -not- Sorcerers launch themselves at him , all claws and eager bumps of their heads to his, four horns between them threatening to take out one of his eyes if they keep it up.

-II-

Days grow a little brighter with company, even though it’s him who mostly needs to look after them but at the very least the castle’s inhabitants decide to leave the trio alone. They find their favourite place to be high above the ground, on the eastern battlement, the castle behind them and the span of the forest stretching to the horizon, gentle gust of wind always present, taking away the stench of the undead.

“Jeez, can you stop playing connect dots with my freckles?” That gets him a cock of one horned head and greedy paws returning to knead at his lower back, claws dragged over his skin. In all honesty, despite his grumbling it feels nice, lazy sun warming up his body and a comfortable weight sprawled on top of him, little incentive to kick it off on his part. That is, until the other of his so called guardians shows up with a severed and slightly rotten arm in his teeth and drops it before the unfortunate boy. The nuzzles that follow aren’t appreciated. At all.


End file.
